Sunday Morning
by StandingOnTheRooftops
Summary: Quatre wakes up on Sunday Morning. 3x4 fluff fic.
1. Quatre's POV

**Drabble... sort of. Very short one-shot featuring 03x04, no plot, no point. Pure Fluff. Quatre's POV. Cotton candy fic. Short and sweet. Really, really, really sweet. Like 'you might need to go to the dentist after reading this' kind of sweet. Fluffy and sweet... like Cotton candy... mmmm... cotton candy.**

**What? Oh, sorry... rambling again. Anyway... Don't own them, probably never will. If you like this, then look up Shades of Blonde, a sweet little sappy drabble from Heero's POV. I'm not getting as many reveiws as I'd hoped, so if you read, please reveiw and tell me weather or not to keep this up.**

**This is my first posted 3/4 fic, so please be kind. Critisism welcome... but flames are only for toasting marshmallows. So unless you're sending me grahm crackers, hershey's bars, and marshmallows along with them... do not send flames.**

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Sunday Morning

I awake happier than I've been all week. Work has been keeping me busy... so busy, it seems... that I haven't had a break at all. But not today, I think as I open my eyes to see early morning sunlight filtering in through the craked window curtains. Today is our day. Nothing at all to do... except maybe sleep in.

It's Sunday morning.

I like Sundays, I think, rolling over. I smile when I see him. He's sprawled across half the bed. And he takes up quite a lot of it. He's on the slender, athletic side... but he's so tall. And it dosen't help that he sleeps with arms and legs spread out. But I make do. Because I love him.

I know it must be killing his arm to have my head laying on it all night long... but he never complains. One of the reasons I love him. He's relaxed. He rarely relaxes. Even in sleep, he is tense, ready for a fight, ready for Murphy to come knocking at the door. You know what I mean. Always ready for something bad to happen, even when he's asleep.

But he's relaxed now. Sprawled out, my head resting on his arm... he's at ease, at peace. I never know why, but he loves me. I'm the only one he lets his guard down around, the only one he lets see his personality.

And he does have one. People are always saying, "Oh, he's such a stick in the mud!", "Does that boy not have a personality at all?", "Trowa's so antisocial.. I don't see what Quatre sees in him." It dosent make me angry, though, to hear people talk like that. They just don't know him the way I do. No one does.

I stare at his face. It looks so peaceful when he's sleeping. I brush his caramel bangs out of the way so that I can see all of his face. He has such a painstakingly beautiful face... I never know why he likes to hide it.

His emerald eyes blink open, and he stares back at me. He smiles. At me, for me. A smile just for me and no one else. My heart flutters.

"Good Morning," I manage, trying to control my breathing. He always makes me feel like this... just one look, one smile... and I melt. All the bad things in life just wash away when he smiles at me like that.

"Good morning," he returns, gently pressing his lips against my forehead. I smile back at him.

I like Sundays. Alot.

"It's Sunday," he points out. Like I needed reminding.

"Mmhm," I say. "It is. What were you planning on doing today?"

"Stay home?" His voice is teasing, but I smile.

"And what were you planning on doing while you stay home all day?"

His hand comes up to my cheek, and he kisses me. A long, slow, passionate kiss. I can't help but sigh when he leans back, smiling down at me.

"Oh, I can think of a few things," He says.

My breath catches. Oh, my, I think as his lips claim mine again.

Yes... I really like Sunday mornings.


	2. Trowa's POV

**Hey, I decided to write a second chapter to this, because so many people asked me too. Yay! I like reveiws. And yes... Trowa is a hog, taking up all the bed like that! But we get revenge... this is from Trowa's POV on the same morning, at the same time. And the rating might have gone up a little bit... Trowa's mind has quite a few more gutters in it, so to speak.**

**Not as good as the first, least I don't think so, but it's still a bit cutsey.**

**Anyways, I hope you like this part too!**

Sunday Morning, Part Two.

I used to hate Sundays. They were boring, filled with nothing but just sitting there. It was my one day off... and I had absolutely nothing to do. Excrutiating. Boring. I used to absolutely hate Sundays.

But not anymore, I think, tilting my head to look at him. Now... they're not boring at all. It's excrutiating to wake up with those blue eyes watching me intently, his pale little hand brushing my hair off of my face, but it's in a completely different way.

I smile at him, knowing full well what's going on in that pretty little head of his.

"Good Morning," he mumbles with a smile. I press a kiss to his forehead, vaguely aware that though I'm awake... my shoulder is asleep. No matter how we fall asleep, we always end up back in this same position. I've never had to share a bed before... and I always slept in the exact middle of the little bed I had at the circus. Quatre calls it 'hogging the bed' and I guess it's a little true. But I don't mind if it means I get to wake up with him on top of me. Call it selfish. I call it clever.

"Good Morning," I return his greeting, letting my lips linger a little longer than nessesary. "It's Sunday," I point out. I have a feeling I'm forgetting something, but looking at him I can't remember what... all I can see is him.

"Mmhmm," is his response. That sleepy little sound causes my insides to churn. "It is. What were you planning on doing today?"

"Stay home?" I ask, teasing him. It brings his smile back, just as I'd hoped.

"And what were you planning on doing while you stay home," he asks, trying to be coy and silly and sexy. But his voice is breathless. I bring a hand up to his face, gently cupping his cheek and stroking his skin with a finger. I lean in and kiss him, this time on the lips. I take my time, showing him just how much I love him... just how much I want him. I pull back just a little, to grin at him. His sigh as I pull away nearly undoes me.

"Oh, I can think of a few things," I say, kissing him again.

I let my lips whisper over his, and he sighs again, letting his arms wrap around me. He's so sweet, so loving. And he knows me so well. He knows just how I feel, even when I don't say anything at all. I guess we were kind of made for each other, as Duo says. The empath, and the boy who won't let his emotions show.

His lips are murmering against mine, and I trace my tounge around his bottom lip. He opens for me willingly, shifting his body so that he's laying even more on top of me than he was before. My mind moans in pleasure as I deepen the kiss, letting my hands slide down his sides.

And then it hit me. Oh, no. Not like that. What I'd forgotten. It was Sunday... Quatre's day off. And Duo was coming over.

Damn.

"Quatre, my love," I whisper, pulling away a bit.

"Hmm?"

"Isn't Duo supposed to be here in..." I spare a glance at the clock and mentally groan, "in seven minutes?"

He casts a resentful look at the clock, and he groans aloud. "Aw... but it's Sunday Morning," he pouts. I can't help but smile and kiss his little frown.

"Maybe he forgot," I try. Unlikely... Duo didn't forget unless he wanted to forget.

"Or maybe Heero decided to keep Duo at home today," he said.

I smile... trying to keep that image far, far, far from my mind. But all our hopes were dashed by the sound of the doorbell.

"Five minutes early as usual," he sighs, going to move back.

"No one's home," I suggest, pulling him back down for another kiss. The doorbell chimes again, almost louder.

His lips curve against mine. "Duo would just pick the lock. He know's were home... our cars are still parked outside. Besides," he smiles down at me suggestively. And I feel myself lost in those teal blue eyes even as the doorbelll chimes angrily.

"There's always Sunday Night."


End file.
